Chief of Staff
by eyesocketsandsuits
Summary: [ GerIta Oneshots ] Surprisingly, Ludwig leaned down and hit the intercom button. "Feliciano, is everything alright?" Roderich glanced down at Feliciano's vital signs and saw what Ludwig had seen. Feliciano's heart rate was up far above what it should be. "Ah, well," Feliciano let out a nervous, half-hearted laugh. "I'm a little nervous." Ludwig sat down in one of the spare chairs.
1. Chief of Staff

**Note: These were originally posted in the FF . net story "Flying Pieces of Paper." They have been moved to this new story in an organizational attempt.**

 **GerIta oneshots.**

* * *

Roderich opened the door to Elizabeta's office, sighing. She was busy at her desk, going through the paperwork that her station required. Roderich wondered how in the world she managed to get anything done; even when he helped stem the flow of doctors into her office, she was still constantly in meetings.

Elizabeta raised her eyes for a moment and smiled, gesturing toward the seat in front of her. "Come, don't be a stranger."

Roderich sat down, crossing his legs. "I have to go soon, but I thought you might like an update on how everything was going: the whole Oncology ward is in a riot. Alfred even came up from his den, can you believe that?"

Elizabeta looked up again, eyes worried underneath the exhaustion. "Oh, no," she shut the manila folder she was holding, sliding it to the side. "That nice boy?"

Roderich took off his glasses and played with them. He was having headaches more often now. He might actually have to get a real prescription for his eyes. "Vargas, yes. Went last night. Ludwig… Beilschmidt, he's not doing so well."

Elizabeta steepled her fingers, those intelligent eyes concerned. She needed to go home and sleep. They all did. Roderich should have put his glasses back on and straightened in the chair—he was Chief of Staff, after all—but he remained as he was.

Elizabeta gave him a grim smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

That woke Roderich up. He stood, fixing his glasses on his nose. He shook his head, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "No. I suspect Beilschmidt will, however. I shall send him up to you when he's done with his rounds. Everyone should be too busy mourning to bother you today, so you should be free."

 **…**

"Are you the Mr. Roderich I've heard so much about?"

Roderich looked down at the man in the bed, blinking at him from behind his glasses. "I'm afraid I haven't heard anything much about you."

The man laughed, hand held protectively over his stomach. "I'm Feliciano! I came in here because my brother said I looked like crap, and now they think I have cancer. My doctor is the tall, blond one. I don't remember his last name, but his first name is Ludwig."

"Dr. Beilschmidt. An excellent doctor." Roderich picked up Feliciano's chart, looking it over. Suspect pancreatic cancer. Roderich frowned. "Any history of cancer in your family?"

For the first time Roderich had entered the room, Feliciano's smile dimmed. "My Grandpa, I think. He had stomachaches and his skin turned—jaundice, I think? He didn't want to come in, though. Is that what I have?"

Roderich replaced the chart. "It's possible. Who is—"

"Who's ready to go in a giant magnet?!"

Roderich took a deep breath, turning to glare at the nurse in the doorway. Gilbert grinned at Roderich as he approached Feliciano's bed, winking at the sick man. He parked the wheelchair next to the bed.

"I told you he was a peach!" Gilbert laughed, nudging Roderich. "I'm sure the two of you had a deep, riveting, not-at-all snooty conversation. Roderich, don't question the patient! We already got a patient history."

Roderich was torn between being exasperated and furious. Why poor Feliciano should be subject to Gilbert, of all people…

Gilbert turned to Feliciano bowing and gesturing toward the wheelchair. "Your chariot awaits, Mr. Vargas."

Feliciano laughed, swinging his legs out of the bed. He glanced at the IV stand, uncertain but determined. "I'm pretty sure I can walk there! How far away is it? I'm sure if I just use the stand and sort of…" Feliciano stood, grabbing on to the IV stand.

Roderich was about to order Feliciano to sit back down, when Gilbert interrupted. "Hey, I know that the pain meds are making you feel a little better, but your body's still hurtin', yeah?"

Feliciano sighed good-naturedly, sitting down in the wheelchair. "Everyone here is worse than my brother! You should have seen him when he came to visit me—I took a week off from work, you see."

Gilbert began to wheel Feliciano out of the room. Roderich dawdled for a moment before following, figuring he could at least check on the CT scan technicians while he was there. He caught back up to the blond and the patient, ignoring Gilbert's questioning look.

"… Well, I guess you could say my brother owns the restaurant, but he only really cooks. He and Antonio cook in the back and I take all the orders. There's this other girl who helps out when I'm not there, too, her name is Emma," Feliciano tapped his fingers on his stomach, humming. "I hope she doesn't mind filling in."

Roderich regretted his decision; Feliciano could talk a mile a minute. Roderich actually learned a lot about Feliciano—unwillingly, of course. He cooked, but like painting and drawing just as much. His brother was going to marry the other cook, but he refused to wear the ring except when his fiancé wasn't looking. Feliciano had a cat that he hoped Lovino, his brother, would remember to feed.

"And Antonio certainly won't because he can't remember to feed his turtles half the time! And he loves those turtles. Lovino gets so angry—is this where we're going?"

Gilbert backed into the CT room, nodding, though Feliciano couldn't see him. "Ja. This is the place! It's not as bad as it looks, really."

Roderich went into the control room, gesturing for one of the technicians to go help Feliciano. A plump girl stood and went to go help assist Gilbert in hooking Feliciano up. Ludwig entered while all this was going on, and Roderich nodded towards him in greeting.

Ludwig watched through the window as Feliciano was laid down on the bed and the dye was injected. Feliciano nodded to whatever the technician was saying. She flicked the switch and Feliciano slid into the center of the round machine.

Surprisingly, Ludwig leaned down and hit the intercom button. "Feliciano, is everything alright?"

Roderich glanced down at Feliciano's vital signs and saw what Ludwig had seen. Feliciano's heart rate was up far above what it should be. He whirled on the technician, about to accuse her of killing one of the hospital's patients.

"Ah, well," Feliciano let out a nervous, half-hearted laugh. "I'm a little nervous." His voice sounded very small through the tinny intercom system. "I just—I've never been in one of these, and I don't really know what you're doing and…"

Ludwig sat down in one of the spare chairs, still facing the intercom system. "This is a CAT scan machine. It's a big x-ray machine. The magnets on the inside send out waves of x-rays that the machine collects on a piece of film. The thing we injected you with—the dye, helps show us your pancreas."

Feliciano's face on the small TV screen didn't look very reassured. "Oh, I see. Then what?"

Ludwig looked confused. "Well… We go over your results and we see—"

"No, I mean after the test. What I'm I going to do? Oh!" Feliciano's face suddenly brightened. "Can I get some paper so I can draw? It's super boring in that hospital room! All I can do is look out the window or watch the TV, but all that's on there is Spanish soap operas, and only Antonio can understand those."

Roderich rolled his eyes, catching Ludwig's eye and jerking his head toward the CAT scan. Ludwig nodded and turned back to the intercom.

"Sure, we'll get some paper. I'll bring it to your room after the scan, okay? But you have to remain as still as possible, and remain calm. The machine is loud, but that's just the magnets. Can you do that, Feliciano?" Ludwig asked, leaning in close to the intercom.

"Ah, sure, Ludwig!"

Roderich was miffed. Usually, Ludwig was the kind of no-nonsense doctor that explained the procedure to a patient as quickly as possible. Ludwig was busy—Elizabeta was considering moving him up to the head of Oncology when Yao retired—so usually, he was as brief and informative as he could be without being cold.

Roderich pushed the thought out of his mind as he exited the technician room. He had other branches of the hospital to check up on.

 **…**

"Oh! Mr. Roderich!"

Roderich stopped walking, turning around quickly to look through the doorway he had just passed. He was supposed to be checking on Gilbert for Elizabeta—her boyfriend usually got up to no good trying to cheer up patients—but a detour wouldn't hurt. Roderich entered the room, blinking.

Feliciano grinned, waving as Roderich neared. Ludwig stood on the other side of the bed, chair nearby suggesting he had been sitting only a moment before. He nodded to Roderich, hands behind his back like he was in the military.

"So, I've been drawing all the doctors and nurses and people who've come to visit me to pass the time!" Feliciano explained, pointing to the paper scattered on the desk he was supposed to eat with. "I was running out of people—there are only a couple of shifts, and I can only draw the tree out the window so many times, so I drew you!"

Roderich raised an eyebrow at Ludwig before taking the piece of paper. Roderich was shocked at how good it actually was. It was a picture of him from the three-fourth angle, without his glasses. It was made entirely in blue pen, no doubt nicked from one of the nurses or doctors. It was a striking resemblance coming from someone Roderich had only met once. Roderich looked up at Feliciano.

"Did you have a picture to go by?"

Feliciano smiled guiltily. "Well, I couldn't remember exactly what you looked like, so I might have asked Gilbert and Ludwig for some help! And usually someone'll ask for something other than their face—Gilbert asked for a baby chicken! Ludwig asked for his dog." Feliciano shot a sneaky smile at Ludwig before shifting some papers out of the way to show Roderich. "But I drew him anyways!"

Roderich picked up a few of the pictures, looking through them. A lot were of Feliciano's view outside his window, but there were staff members sprinkled throughout. There was a nurse who Roderich presumed to be on the night shift changing an IV bag. Another one of a man who looked similar to Feliciano, except angrier, with a sleeping man leaning against him. One of Ludwig, standing at the end of Feliciano's bed, looking at a chart.

"Ludwig says I'm going to use up all the paper if I keep drawing so much! I asked my brother to get one of my sketchpads, but he has to keep the restaurant open, so he can't come in much and he always forgets." Feliciano laughed, gathering his paper's together in a neat pile.

Roderich observed Feliciano as he chatted to Ludwig and Roderich. He had lost a lot of weight in only a week. One of his hands was still hovering near his stomach. His jaundice was painfully noticeable.

Roderich returned the pictures to Feliciano, nodding. "I'll definitely come to review your work in the future, Mr. Vargas. I have a friend whose little sister enjoys drawings of cute things. Would you perhaps…?"

Feliciano grinned. "Of course! Like, bunnies and kit—Alright! Sure, I'm sure I can find some time to draw her something. I was running out of ideas, anyways."

Roderich nodded and turned to Ludwig. "May I speak with you?"

Ludwig nodded, and the two of them left Feliciano and wandered further into oncology. They walked for a bit, both subconsciously trying to catch sight of Gilbert. Finally, Roderich shot a look at Ludwig.

"How was the biopsy?"

Ludwig ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back. "It looks like it's heading into Stage III."

Roderich stopped, crossing his arms. "Ludwig—"

Ludwig slowed, but didn't turn to face Roderich. "It's hasn't reach his artery, yet. Jones has us, that is, Vargas, booked for tomorrow to cut away as much as we can. Then we're putting him on chemo."

"Radiation?"

Roderich watched Ludwig's head shake from behind. "No, he's nervous about the radiation. He'd rather take drugs."

Roderich took a deep breath and marched in front of Ludwig, eyes two cold shards of steel. "Dr. Beilschmidt, I understand that this case has become personal. However, I ask that you take a step back and look at what's best for the patient. If you feel your… Affections are clouding your judgment, I hope you would do the sensible thing and assign another doctor to Vargas' case. For your sake and, more importantly, his."

Roderich turned away, quest to find Gilbert abandoned.

 **…**

Feliciano didn't have any new pictures for Roderich the next few times he visited. He was curled in bed, arms wrapped around his stomach. He had lost more weight, and was running a fever. Every time Roderich visited, Ludwig had been there at some point or another, checking on the chemo or Feliciano's temperature.

Roderich had helped Elizabeta finish some paperwork, and decided to check on Feliciano before heading home for the evening. He wandered through the hospital, comforted by the fluorescence; sometimes, it seemed too dark when he made the short journey to his car after work.

Roderich paused outside Feliciano's door, frowning when he saw he wasn't the first one to have the idea to visit Feliciano. Ludwig was sitting in a chair, holding Feliciano's hand and talking to him. Roderich wondered if his fever was still up.

"I wish I could draw, still. You should see how serious everyone looks when they come to visit me. If I showed you your faces, maybe some of you could smile!" Feliciano sighed. Roderich wasn't sure if Feliciano was trying to be upbeat, but he did succeed in sounding very tired.

Ludwig's hand reached up to brush back some of Feliciano's hair. "You're very sick, Feliciano. Everyone's just worried."

Feliciano laughed, softly. "Everyone's always worried. Even before I came here. I guess it's your job, though, huh? You have to be worried. I would be worried if my doctor didn't worry about me."

Ludwig let out a faint sound of agreement. He caressed Feliciano's cheek.

Feliciano hummed, hand sliding up to entwine with Ludwig's. He kissed Ludwig's fingers. "A month wasn't a very long time, was it?"

"No," Ludwig agreed, pressing his forehead against Feliciano's, "No, it wasn't."

Roderich withdrew, walking away from the Oncology wing. He had intruded, he realized belatedly.

 **…**

"Roderich."

Roderich stopped, hand on the doorknob. He looked over his shoulder at Elizabeta. She sighed and stood up, stretching. She walked over, standing in front of him and leaning on the chair. Roderich still remembered when she used to wear a doctor's coat, though she had long since been appointed Chief of Medicine.

"I'm sorry," she said, finally.

Roderich turned around, back pressed against the door. "Why would you ever say something so foolish? It wasn't your fault. He caught an infection. He died. That's what most cancer patients tend to do, isn't it?" Roderich registered that it was his mouth the words were coming out of, but he felt oddly detached from the motion.

Elizabeta looked at him. Roderich felt his face flush when he realized she pitied him. He turned around sharply, yanking open the door. Before he could take a step out the door, she spoke.

"I'm sorry Ludwig fell in love. I'm sorry you feel responsible."

Roderich took a deep breath and walked out the door.


	2. Pet Store

"Do you want to hold him?"

Ludwig turned around, caught off guard. He hadn't been aware the store worker had come up behind him. Ludwig cleared his throat, hoping the blush wasn't noticeable. "No, sorry. I was just looking…" He jerked his head toward the cage.

The worker smiled, leaning down toward the puppy. "Isn't he cute? Such a good dog! He never tries to run away when I put him down to clean his cage. Some of the other puppies…" the worker laughed, shaking his head. "I'll be over here, if you need me!" The worker smiled, heading toward the checkout counter.

Ludwig frowned. The worker was new; Ludwig came here every couple of days to look at the dogs, and he had never seen this man before.

The dog whined, pressing its face against the bars of the cage. Ludwig reached through the bars, rubbing the dog on the top of the head. A little Dalmatian. Ludwig murmured to it in German before exiting the store.

 **…**

"Are you sure you don't want to hold him?"

Ludwig was once again caught off guard. The same worker from the other day was there, hands behind his back, rocking on the balls of his feet. He had a name tag now.

"No, still just looking."

Feliciano laughed, reaching by Ludwig with a key and unlocking the cage. "Well, I think he wants to see you!" Feliciano caught the dog easily in his arms, smiling brightly at Ludwig. "He missed you the other day, …?"

"Beilschmidt. Ludwig." Ludwig cursed himself. "Ludwig. I'm Ludwig."

Feliciano nodded, paying more attention to the dog than the slip of the tongue. "Well, he missed you, Ludwig! He was all mopey. Here, hold him!"

Ludwig took a step back, shaking his head. "No, I… I have three dogs already, I shouldn't…"

Feliciano laughed, and Ludwig felt a little foolish and expectantly happy at the sound. "I didn't say you had to take him home! Here, just hold him!"

Ludwig tried once again to protest, but the dog ended up in his hands, anyways. It really did have an adorable temperament—especially for a Dalmatian. He licked at Ludwig's face, and then attempted to chew his ear.

"That smile looks nice on you, Ludwig!"

Ludwig's head shot up, slightly mortified Feliciano was still standing there. The shorter man didn't seem to notice, too busy poking at the puppy from behind. The Dalmation yipped and attempted to turn around, nearly falling out of Ludwig's hands.

"So, three dogs, huh?"

Ludwig set the dog on the ground, grateful to hide from Feliciano's gaze. "Yes. A Golden, a Shepard, and a Dachshund." He stayed close to the ground, playing with the dog.

"Wow, no wonder you come in here so often!" Ludwig felt his face heat up once again. "I just moved here, so I was looking for a job, and the girl who used to work here—you must have known her! Emma?—she told me it's super easy, but a lot of work!"

Ludwig's eyebrows furrowed. "How can something be easy, but hard?"

Feliciano crouched down near Ludwig, their knees brushing. He laughed again, and Ludwig's stomach did a backflip. "Well, puppies and kitties and birds aren't hard to work with! They're easy, see? But you have to make sure they're clean, and that they have enough water and food, and that someone plays with them!" Feliciano picked up the Dalmatian, giving it a kiss on the nose.

Ludwig stood, adjusting his tie. "Ah, I have to get home. My brother, he is coming over." Ludwig realized he didn't need to explain himself, but pressed on. "Good bye, Feliciano." He turned and walked away as fast as he could without running.

 **…**

Feliciano let out another one of his delightful laughs. "Oh, wow! Who's this?"

"Berlitz," Ludwig answered, letting the Golden Retriever walk closer to Feliciano.

"I was wondering why you came in late!" Feliciano began to pet the dog, looking like Ludwig had just brought him a Christmas present. "He's gorgeous! Oh! We should let him meet our puppy!"

Ludwig's mind raced over what the word 'our' meant as Feliciano unlocked the cage, putting the Dalmatian on the ground. The puppy scampered toward Berlitz, knocking into the older dog's legs. Berlitz barked, tail wagging.

Ludwig watched Feliciano watch the dogs. He scrunched up his nose when he smiled, Ludwig noted. Feliciano's eyes flicked up to Ludwig's, and Ludwig looked back down at the dogs.

The Dalmatian began to try and chew at Berlitz's let, and Feliciano intervened. "No!" He repeated the soft admonishment a couple of times before picking up the Dalmatian, smiling at Ludwig apologetically. "I'm sorry! He doesn't listen, sometimes!"

"It's fine!" Ludwig answered quickly. He coughed. "It's fine," he repeated, voice deeper.

 **…**

"Can I tell you a secret, Ludwig?"

Ludwig felt his heart speed up. Feliciano smiled playfully.. He was supposed to be ringing Ludwig's dog toy out, but he was instead leaning against the checkout counter.

"Sure," Ludwig answered, throat dry.

"I'm more of a cat person," Feliciano whispered.

Ludwig blinked. "Really?"

Feliciano laughed, standing straight and ringing up Ludwig's toy. "Yeah! I have a cat at home named Pooki. I like dogs, too—our dog is adorable, Ludwig!—but kitties are so much cuter! I like their ears and tails and little paws, and even their scratchy tongues!"

Feliciano was a very interesting person.

 **…**

"Ludwig!" Feliciano gaped. "You're buying our dog?"

Ludwig nodded, holding the Dalmatian. "Yeah."

Feliciano's face looked oddly conflicted. His smile seemed strained. "That's—that's great! What're you going to name him?" He headed toward the checkout counter, avoiding Ludwig's eyes. "You should name him 'Spot' in German, don't you think?"

Ludwig followed slowly, unsure. "Maybe. Is… Is everything okay?"

Feliciano whipped around, laughing loudly. "Of course! Why wouldn't everything be okay? You'll have our dog and he can play with Berlitz and you can still come in for food and stuff… Right? Or maybe dog toys, because puppies chew on stuff so you'll need lots of toys—but you'll still come in."

Ludwig furrowed his eyebrows. "Of course I'll come in still."

Feliciano took the Dalmatian from Ludwig, looking at him instead of Ludwig. "But you probably won't come in every day anymore, huh?"

Ludwig laughed, and Feliciano looked up. "There isn't anything that would keep…" Ludwig realized what he was saying and stopped, cursing at himself. "Well, I… I…" Feliciano was looking at him with those eyes… "Well, our dog will miss you. Of course I have to come in, still."

Ludwig had never heard anything so beautiful as Feliciano's laugh after he said that.

* * *

 **From becomeonewithhetalia:** Human!AU where Ludwig and Feliciano meet each other in the little pet shop on the corner since Lud likes to visit it regularly to see all the puppies and Feli just started working there recently.


	3. Ghost

Feliciano investigated ghosts because he claimed he talked to his grandpa ten years after his death, and he wanted to prove he wasn't hallucinating.

Ludwig investigated ghosts because they didn't exist. Or, he wanted to _prove_ they didn't exist. He and his brother had lived in a ridiculously old house, and ever since he was little, Ludwig had to prove to his older brother that the banging was the water heater… Or the dryer… Or the house settling. As he grew, it had just been natural to try and disprove it professionally.

Which is why he and Feliciano were standing outside an abandoned church.

Of course, Ludwig had gotten the proper documentation for visiting this place over night, so they weren't going to "disappear," as Feliciano always feared. Still, the man to Ludwig's left was definitely getting nervous.

"Wow, this place is pretty crazy!" Feliciano commented as they set up their gear. "Like, if I was going to pick a place to haunt and kill strangers who came to try and talk to me, this would be the place! Why is this place haunted?"

Ludwig glanced over his shoulder at Feliciano. "They used it as an infirmary during the Civil War. They say some of the dead stuck around."

Feliciano set up a tripod. "Oh, man, no wonder we flew all the way out here! That was crazy. I watched that movie about it and this guy was pushing this whole wheelbarrow full of arms! Crazy."

Ludwig grunted an agreement, standing up and dusting his hands off. The place certainly looked the part. It had been made of stone, and the whole place smelled like wet earth and mold. Rats scurried around in the corners of the room. All the windows had been busted in, so the whole place was muggy and filled with bugs. The flood lights he and Feliciano had set up cast sharp shadows on the walls.

Feliciano was still talking about the movie, setting up the camera. His hands were shaking, and he kept almost dropping the camera. Ludwig eventually came over and took it from him, placing it on the stand. Feliciano laughed nervously, looking around.

"I don't like the feel of this place, Ludwig! It feels sad, don't you think?"

Ludwig shook his head. "You're just projecting, Feliciano. This is no different than the day care center, just older."

Feliciano's eyes kept peering into the dark, and he took a step closer to Ludwig. "I dunno', that place was pretty creepy, too! This is different, though. Like, the air feels different." He flexed his hands. "It's kind of like when you walk into a room after someone just stopped crying."

Ludwig glanced over. "It's an old church."

Feliciano rolled his eyes playfully. "Alright, fine, be that way. Where should be go first? This place has an attic, right?"

Ludwig furrowed his eyebrows, rifling through his bag until he found one of the voice recorders. He tossed it to Feliciano before finding the portable camcorder. "I was thinking we should investigate the basement first. The attic is probably unstable."

Feliciano hesitated. "Do we really have to do the creepy basement, first? That's where they kept dead people, isn't it?"

Ludwig snorted. "It was a hospital in the Civil War. They kept dead people everywhere. What were—"

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ludwig asked, standing a little straighter and looking around.

It wasn't impossible for some teenagers to come here for some cheap scares, but the church was situated pretty far back in the woods, and the two of them would have heard a car approaching.

The shorter man had closed his eyes, head tilted to the side like he was listening for something. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and laughed, shrugging.

"Must have been my imagination! Sorry, sorry." Feliciano rested his hand on his forehead like he was going to brush back his hair, but he dropped his hand. "You didn't say my name, right?"

Ludwig shook his head. "You are projecting. There's no way that a ghost would know your name. You're imagining things. Calm down." He bent down and found a flashlight, handing it to Feliciano. "The basement?"

Feliciano hummed in agreement. The two of them headed for the basement stairs. Ludwig went first; abandoned buildings in warm climates usually housed snakes.

Picking his way through the church, Ludwig could see why Feliciano would be nervous. Beyond the comfort of the floodlight, the church seemed to fade off into darkness forever. Creepers covered the floor, and Ludwig could hear Feliciano stumble over them every few steps. Old, wooden pews were broken and rotting.

Ludwig felt Feliciano press up behind him. It was oddly quiet, and Ludwig was hyper aware of Feliciano's breathing.

"Ah," Ludwig murmured, coming to a stop.

Feliciano peeked around Ludwig. "Hm… That doesn't look like a door. That looks more like a trap door."

Ludwig handed Feliciano his flash light and camera, bending down and heaving the door open. The wood groaned under the strain, but eventually it came loose from the floor. Stale air blew up, and Ludwig coughed as he swung the door open and let it bang against the hard floor.

Feliciano hopped over, curious despite himself. "Hey, Ludwig, if this were a horror movie, this would probably be the point when we should turn back."

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Mm, well, the ghosts would probably kill me first, if that's any comfort."

They stood on the edge of the stairs, looking down into the gloom. Ludwig shined his flashlight, frowning when he saw the state of the wooden steps. He set a tentative foot down, leaning to make sure it would support his weight.

"It must have been really sad to be kept down there if you were hurt," Feliciano commented, following behind Ludwig as he went step by step. "I bet it was cold and wet. I don't know why you pick such sad places to go and visit; I don't want to talk to sad ghosts… They never really listen to what you have to say."

Ludwig stopped and looked at Feliciano. "Yes, but they probably wouldn't hang around to 'talk' if they died happily."

Feliciano smiled and raised an eyebrow. "I'm telling you, Ludwig, I _saw_ my Grandpa. We should bring your brother along more often; at least he _believes_ in ghosts."

Ludwig half turned on the steps. "Mm… And maybe I should bring along _your_ brother. He doesn't. Maybe we could… bond."

Feliciano laughed, covering his mouth with his hand. He opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes focused in on something over Ludwig's shoulder. He placed his hand on Ludwig's arm, squeezing. Ludwig whipped his head around.

It was a human shadow.

Ludwig's mind raced. Their flashlights were pointed at one another, and most of the light from the floodlight was lost on the stairs. Could someone else be down here? What—

"Hello?" Feliciano asked. He pointed his light at the shadow.

It was gone.

Ludwig let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Light tricks," Ludwig sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Just light tricks."

"From what light?"

Ludwig didn't answer and kept going down. The floor of the basement was covered in stones and debris. Whatever had been down here had been cleared out, leaving an empty room that didn't echo.

Feliciano left Ludwig's side, wandering into the darkness. "Hello?" He called again, flashlight swinging around. "Is anybody here? We just want to talk."

Ludwig shone his flashlight around the stairs, making sure that no one had crept down before they had. Everything seemed undisturbed; besides Feliciano walking around, there was no other noise.

Ludwig turned back to Feliciano just in time to see him trip over a rock. His flashlight went flying, and Ludwig heard him land heavily on the ground.

Ludwig cursed, trying to find Feliciano with his flashlight and walking toward where he had seen him last. "Feliciano? Are you okay? Feliciano, answer me."

"Flashlight."

"What?"

"The flashlight, Ludwig."

Ludwig glanced at where Feliciano's flashlight had fallen.

The shadow was back. The flashlight illuminated a figure standing in the room. It was solid, but the light didn't show any features. Ludwig shone his own light toward the figure… No additional details were added. Just a black mass.

It stood, rocking back and forth. And then it stepped out of the light.

Ludwig gasped, walking forward and swinging his flashlight back and forth.

"Feliciano? Feliciano _where are you_?" It seemed like ages until Ludwig's light finally fell on Feliciano.

The shadow was crouching down by Feliciano. He jerked back as Ludwig's light illuminated it, letting out a yell of surprise. It reached out to touch him as Ludwig ran towards them.

The shadow paused, looked up at the approaching Ludwig, and disappeared back into the gloom.

Ludwig skittered to a halt beside Feliciano, getting down on his knees. "Are you okay? Did it hurt you? Feliciano, _look at me_." Feliciano obeyed. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I, uh, I slammed my knee against a rock and then the thing… Ludwig I think it said my _name_. It was reaching out to touch me," Feliciano held his hand up to his cheek, "And it said my _name_."

 **…**

Ludwig set Feliciano down in the passenger side of the door, trying to avoid jostling his leg.

"But what about the gear?"

Ludwig shut the door, walking quickly around to the other side and getting in himself. He started the car, pulling away as fast as he could from the church. "I'll get it in the morning. We're not staying here when it's dark."

Ludwig didn't believe in ghosts.

Now, he did believe in not going to abandoned places at night.


	4. Went to Hell

Ludwig nodded to Gilbert across from him. His older brother winked, back to the wall. He mouthed something to Ludwig, but the younger couldn't catch quite what he said. They both tensed when they heard footsteps approaching from the other end of the hallway. Ludwig hoped the late hour would deter any guests from exiting their rooms.

Ludwig clicked on his microphone.

"Do you have it?" The voice was surprisingly cheerful for the situation at hand. "Ah, good. I have no idea why you picked the Four Seasons, but I'm betting it's because you like to gamble. After all, who _knows_ who you ticked off getting this to me! Maybe the government…"

He had pissed off the Beilschmidt brothers' employers.

"Don't like t' gamble."

There was the sound of rustling paper. "Well, that's interesting. I learn new things every time we meet—what's your code name, Lion? That's cute. It all seems to be here. Now, as for payment…"

And then it all went to hell.

A third set of footsteps approached the voices. "Oh, hello," the tired yet enthusiastic voice greeted, "Do you know where the three hundreds are? I've been looking for my room for ages and I keep ending back up at the two hundreds, even though the sign says the three hundreds should be here—is that a gun?"

Ludwig was very calmly panicking. His brother seemed to be doing the same thing, though less calm; he pulled out his gun. Ludwig shook his head, glaring. Surely, Tino couldn't be serious—why would he shoot an innocent person who didn't even know what they had walked in on?

"Hello!" Tino responded brightly. "I don't think it will matter if I help you find your room or not. I'm really, really sorry, but I'm going to have to kill you. Well, eventually. My boss will probably want to meet your first."

"Kill him?" Tino's partner asked.

"Kill me?!" The man echoed, panic making his voice squeak. "Please don't kill me, I won't tell anyone that you won't help me find my room! I can just go down to the desk and ah—please don't point that at my head!" He sounded close to tears.

Gilbert and Ludwig, meanwhile, were having a silent argument.

'We have to help him!' Ludwig mouthed, gripping his gun.

'No, we have to get the Boss' big goons to help him,' Gilbert mouthed back, waving his arms around. 'Fat lot of good we'll do against Ti-no! You read his file!'

Ludwig glared. 'We can't let him kill that man.'

'He's not going to kill him right away—you heard him.'

Ludwig rolled his eyes and stepped out from behind the corner of the wall, gun honing in on the small blond. Tino was a lot more menacing in his mug shot; the man before him looked slightly bewildered at Ludwig's entrance.

"Oh, look, Berwald," Tino chuckled, "They sent goons."

Berwald was a mountain of a man. He towered over Tino, glaring at Ludwig. He grunted in agreement with Tino, taking a step closer towards him. Ludwig hoped dearly that Gilbert had followed his lead and that he wasn't standing out in the middle of the hallway alone.

The man who Tino was currently pointing a gun at smiled desperately at Ludwig. "Do you know where the three hundreds are?!"

Tino let out a faint, annoyed sigh and prodded the man with his gun. "Shush." He turned back to Ludwig, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet. "I bet you probably want to save him, right? Hm… What do you think, Berwald?"

The man glared. "Kill him."

Tino nodded, laughing. "Oh, _now_ you have no problem killing people willy-nilly." He observed Ludwig. "If you haven't shot me already, but you have a gun, you're probably not a police officer. What're you doing here, goony?"

Ludwig gripped his gun and refused to answer.

Tino shrugged. "Alright, then." He raised his gun to the man's head. The man let out a desperate laugh.

"Recording," Ludwig finally said, glaring back at Berwald. "We were recording your transaction."

Tino nodded, lowering the gun. "Oh, I see. Well, how about a little trade? You give me the recording, and I won't kill your friend here." Tino smiled, prodding the man with the gun.

Ludwig gritted his teeth and nodded. He ripped off his wire, holding it in his free hand. "Send the man over, first."

Tino frowned slightly. "You don't trust me? Well, then, I don't trust you either. We'll do a tradeoff. Your friend—what's your name?— Feliciano will walk halfway towards you, then you'll toss the recorder over and he can run the rest of the way. Good?"

Ludwig nodded and the smile returned to Tino's face.

"Alright! Feliciano, walk to room… Hm, what do you think, Berwald?"

"Two-twenty."

"Walk to room two-twenty and stop, or I'll shoot you in the back of the head." Tino gestured with his gun. "Go."

Feliciano was close to tears and he stumbled forward. Ludwig's eyes were glued on Tino, making sure the man didn't decide to shoot the both of them, anyways. Ludwig was wearing a bullet-proof vest, but Feliciano…

"Stop," Ludwig snapped when Feliciano almost passed the room.

"The recording," Berwald rumbled.

Ludwig sighed and tossed the recorder. Tino caught it neatly then shot Feliciano in the back of the knee. The gunshot seemed too loud, even with the silencer. Feliciano screamed and stumbled. Ludwig ran forward to catch him, aiming his gun at Tino.

"Well, he didn't kill him," Berwald muttered as he and Tino moved away down the hall.

Gilbert was suddenly next to Ludwig, cursing rapidly in German. "Shit, I thought it was _you_ who got shot—fuck, this kid's all messed up…" He ripped off his shirt, pressing it against Feliciano's wound.

Ludwig was on his knees, half supporting Feliciano as Gilbert worked. He was gasping for air, gripping Ludwig's shoulders and pressing his face against his neck. Dear god, please don't let anyone wake up and come out into the hallway.

"Please," Feliciano breathed, so quiet Ludwig barely heard him. "I'm a dancer."


	5. Conch

The ocean didn't _seem_ bad. It seemed pretty tame as it lapped around Feliciano's toes, almost calming. If Lovino had seen him, Feliciano would have been dragged away and thoroughly lectured by his grandfather. As it was, Feliciano sat on the sand, watching the sun sink down beneath the waves.

Of course, it wasn't the _ocean_ that was dangerous; it was the slithering things that lived in the water. Everyone had seen the carving outside of the docks—a huge, serpent like creature dragging a sailor down off his boat, the words ＢＥＷＡＲＥ ＴＨＥ ＳＩＲＥＮＳ emblazoned over the scene.

According to Grandpa, it hadn't always been like this. A few decades earlier, when the sirens still swam from fishing boats instead of tipping them over, children used to learn how to swim in the ocean, and coastal communities bloomed along the shore.

Feliciano sighed, wondering when Lovino and Grandpa would come home. The fishing boats had been gone for nearly a week now, and the whole town was beginning to worry. Still, this happened every month, so Feliciano wasn't too nervous. At least he could come down to the ocean when they were away.

"Hello, crab," Feliciano greeted, catching a hermit crab that had scuttled over his hand. "I bet that if Lovino was here, he would tell me to throw you back because you might try to pinch me. He really is a worry wart, and he yells an awful lot, but I think he just wants what's best for me. Goodbye," he finished, letting the crab continue on its way.

He watched the crab progress across the sand, until it scuttled around a conch shell. Feliciano let out a gasp, scrambling over on his hands and knees toward the shell. It was huge, bigger than his outstretched hand and the most beautiful shade of peach and creamy white.

"Oh, wow," Feliciano breathed, picking up the shell. "Wow, wow."

"Uh, hello."

Feliciano screamed, hurling the shell blindly at the water and throwing himself away from the waves. The voice had come from the water, he had _heard_ it. But, looking now, he was the only one on the entire beach. And he had lost his shell.

A splash.

Feliciano stared in horror, realizing it had gotten too dark for him to see underneath the surface of the water. It took him a moment to realize that the shell had materialized back on the sand, the last fading rays of sunlight shining off the wet surface.

"Don't—"

Feliciano screamed again. Fear kept him rooted in place, eyes still fixed on the waves. He couldn't see a head, or any movement, but the voice definitely hadn't been his imagination. The seconds dragged by. Feliciano relaxed, slightly, and started to stand up.

"Can you see?"

He nearly screamed again, but he figured that if whatever was talking was going to kill him it would have already. What came out of his mouth instead was a half strangled sound. Feliciano stood uncertainly on the shifting sand, half ready to turn and run.

There was silence for a long time. Slowly, a glow approached the shore. A lantern filled with the brightest blue Feliciano had ever seen lifted out of the water, held by a very human arm. The man set the lantern on the sand before retreating slightly back into the ocean and the dark.

Only the sound of the waves.

"Is… Is that fire?" Feliciano finally managed to choke out, still standing.

"No. It's algae. We use it instead of fire."

"Are you going to eat me?" Feliciano whimpered.

"No."

"Are you a siren?"

This time the voice didn't answer. Feliciano slowly sat back down, eyes on the strange blue light. Slowly, ever so slowly, he crept toward the water on his hands and knees. He retrieved his shell. The siren had placed the lantern right behind the conch, and Feliciano thought he could _just_ see a head. He remained near the light, watching the head.

"Do you like it?"

"The shell?" Feliciano looked down, running his hands over the bumpy outside of the conch. "It's very pretty. Did… Did you leave the other ones, too? The red one, and the one with the spots, and the white one that looks like glass? And the pearls?"

"Yes."

"Really?" Feliciano perked up, leaning forward over the lantern. "Why? Is it because you want to eat me? Because you're trying to woo me? And you know, how can you talk to me, because I thought you guys just looked like giant snake-fish."

The head moved closer, and Feliciano was surprised to see a normal looking blond man. It was shallow enough to see the man's arms and torso, though the rest of his body was hidden under the inky waves. The man made eye contact briefly before looking away, smoothing his hair out of his face.

"Oh, you look…" Feliciano let out a hum, watching the man. "If you're not going to eat me, my name is Feliciano. What's your name? Do sirens have names?"

"Ludwig."

"You don't talk much, do you?" Feliciano laughed, tapping the lantern. "You know, my brother always told me that sirens were evil. We have this big carving of one of you eating a fisherman, and all the little kids are scared of it. You wouldn't eat my brother, would you?"

The man almost looked amused. "No, I wouldn't. I only eat fish."

"Is that why you tip over our boats? Because we steal your fish?" Feliciano leaned closer, trying to see the bottom half of Ludwig.

"No. Not all of us agree with… Drowning humans." Ludwig shifted closer, resting on his stomach and stretching his arms out in front of him. His fingers were only a couple of inches away from Feliciano's foot. "You have a brother?"

"Lovino, and my Grandpa. This is so weird, because everyone in my town hates sirens, but I'm talking to you. If my brother knew, he would be so angry. But I guess he's not here, so… Do you have any brothers?"

"I—"

" _Feliciano_!"

Feliciano turned around, knocking over the lantern and dropping the shell. It was Lovino who had screamed, and he was currently sprinting across the sand, half hysterical. He slammed into Feliciano, forcibly dragging him away from the water. He kept screaming at the water, though Ludwig had long since disappeared.

"What is wrong with you?!" Lovino shouted, finally managing to kept Feliciano to his feet. "Do you want to get killed?! What were you thinking, talking to a—a—" Lovino grabbed Feliciano's arm and hauled him away, back toward town.

"Lovino, he was _friendly_ ," Feliciano tried, trying desperately to break free of his brother's grip, "He just wanted to talk, and he brought me a shell, and he had a lantern that glowed—"

"You're so stupid! Why do you think it was trying to talk to you? It wanted to kill you, Feliciano! How many time has Grandpa told you not to go to the beach? You think we're trying to be mean? We don't want you to die!" Lovino smacked the back of Feliciano's head, shaking his head. "Thank god we got back when we did!"

"Lovino!"

But his brother wouldn't have it. Lovino dragged Feliciano back home, where Grandpa proceeded to explain for the nth time how the ocean was dangerous, and how the sirens tipped over boats and drowned the fishermen. When Feliciano tried to explain that not _all_ sirens killed people, Grandpa sent him to his room and barred the door.

 **...**

Nearly a month later, Feliciano returned from the beach with a beautiful conch shell. No one in town knew where he had gotten it from.


	6. Villas

"I can't… Not anymore…"

It had been a peaceful morning before that. Feliciano usually sent the slaves away when Ludwig slept with him; besides a knock at the door to see if Feliciano was eating breakfast, it had been quiet. But now Feliciano was up and trying on his citizen's toga.

"What do you mean?" Ludwig asked from the bed.

"Grandpa…" Feliciano fidgeted with his toga, wrapping and rewrapping it around his torso. "He said… Ah, could you help? You always do it best." Feliciano trotted over to Ludwig's side of the bed, holding his arms out and smiling.

Ludwig sat up and fixed the cloth, unconsciously rubbing the expensive material in between his fingers. There was a few moment of silence as Ludwig worked, wondering if Feliciano was going to finish his thought. When he was finished, Feliciano fell onto the slave, laying on top of him and sighing contentedly.

"Feliciano, I have to get up and work," Ludwig said, making no move to sit up.

"You should come to the baths with me," Feliciano laughed into Ludwig's chest, arching his back like one of the cats that wandered around the villa. "You would like the exercise room."

"I have to help arrange the furniture for that party your grandfather is holding. And then I have to organize the meals, and the… I really have to work. You can't promote me and then expect me—"

"Do you miss your home?" Feliciano cut in, propping himself up and looking at Ludwig. "All the way in Germania?"

Ludwig steadily avoided his gaze and looked at the distant ceiling, eyes tracing the scene Feliciano had painted. How any times had he seen the same ocean port depicted with vivid detail? How many nights and early mornings? The ships coming into dock, the ropes and sails whipping wildly in the wind.

"Yes."

"Do you miss your brother?"

Ludwig felt his throat tighten, even after all these years. "Yes."

Feliciano rested his head on Ludwig's chest once again. "You know, I could send you back there."

Ludwig nearly chocked. "What?"

There was something painful and raw in the way Feliciano sat up and smiled. "Well, of course! I mean, with Grandpa being who he is, and with the trip to Britannia coming up, we could drop you off—I know you and Lovino don't get along, and a lot of the slaves think I play favorites, and Grandpa was just telling me…"

Feliciano released a shuddering breath, turning his head. The sunlight caught the curve of his cheek, making his skin look like that of the marble statues scattered around the villa. "I could make you a freeman, Ludwig, and you could go home."

Outside, the calls of the slaves to one another drowned out the birdsong. Somewhere in the back of Ludwig's mind, he realized he would have to order the cook to start preparing for the feast later. One of Ludwig's dogs—a gift from Feliciano—pawed at the door before wandering away.

What could Ludwig say? He felt the silence stretching on between them.

Finally, Ludwig managed a, "And you?"

Feliciano shrugged, his toga slipping down his shoulder. "Well, there are always plenty of slaves who would want to run the household! And… Well, Grandpa said it wasn't respectable for someone like me to…. To be with _you_." His eyes met Ludwig's for a moment.

"Did Lovino—"

"Not everything is Lovino," Feliciano sighed, shaking his head. "Grandpa," he closed his eyes, laying his head back down on Ludwig's chest. "I don't want to go to the forum today. It's a lot funner with you, because at least I can talk to you and you tell me interesting things that you've heard about people and you make me laugh. When it's just me and Lovino…"

Ludwig ran his hand up and down Feliciano's back.

"You know what I wish, Ludwig? I wish I could stay all day in bed with you. Grandpa could plan his own party and Lovino could go to the forum and it could just be us and people could bring _you_ food for once," Feliciano grinned at his own ideas, "And I could sculpt you! And you could practice and sculpt me."

Ludwig shook his head, smile creeping across his face. "That would be a true horror."

"No!" A friendly shove. "You're not so bad! I like when you write and draw and do poetry. It's very…"

"Amateur."

"Cute," Feliciano corrected, shaking his head and laughing.

The sounds of the rest of the villa floated up to the pair. Lovino, somewhere in the distance, was yelling at one of the Gaulic slaves who had misheard the Latin orders. Ludwig's dog returned to whimper at the door.

"One day, just one in bed…" Feliciano muttered. "I can't do this again, with you."

The sunlight had brightened enough where Ludwig could see the chips in the paint in the mural. How old had Feliciano been when he had painted it? The ships didn't hold any Germanic slave boys and their brothers, just fruit and foreign animals. The waves weren't nearly as blue as when the moonlight illuminated them.


	7. Saboteurs Require Silence

Ludwig knew Feliciano could talk. He had _heard_ him.

It had been the typical pasty, yellow day. The cars were bumper to bumper on the street, their smog drifting up and casting strange shadows on the pedestrians below. Ludwig waded through the crowd, careful to avoid bumping shoulders with the grimier subjects of the city. A man collided with him, spinning on his heel but quickly moving away.

"Sorry," he called over his shoulder, giving Ludwig a grin and small wave.

Ludwig had been struck; who said sorry?

Two weeks later, the man arrived at Ludwig's work, bearing the nametag "Feliciano."

It wasn't impossible that Feliciano's tongue had been cut out in the interim—the question was why. Management usually only selected the conspirators from the 'seedy' side of town. Feliciano showing up wordless at Ludwig's office was, quite frankly, bizarre.

Ludwig stared at his black computer screen. The green cursor blinked, and Ludwig wondered idly the rate at which it disappeared. He leaned back, rubbing his eyes and taking off his glasses.

There was a loud knock at the opening to his office, and Ludwig spun around in his chair. Feliciano stood, balancing a box of computer paper against his hip. He smiled and waved his free hand, fingers twirling through the air.

Ludwig cleared his throat and stood up. "Ah, I was wondering where… Well, you usually come earlier." Ludwig shook his head and started to come around his desk.

Feliciano held up his hand, eyes nearly closing as he smiled. He hefted the box and slammed it on Ludwig's desk, pointing to himself and then the printer. Ludwig sat back in his chair and watched as Feliciano replaced the paper.

"Is it a hard 'C?'" Ludwig finally asked, breaking the silence.

Feliciano jumped slightly and looked up. That same contented smile appeared, and he shook his head. He held up his fist, obviously in explanation.

Ludwig looked around Feliciano toward the doorway, then back at the mute. "You can speak," he said softly, "Management hardly ever—"

The fear that flashed across Feliciano's face made Ludwig cringe.

"No, I'm sorry, I—"

Feliciano shook his head, his lips twitching upwards for a moment before falling. He held his hands up and backed away through the doorway, leaving a very confused and worried Ludwig.

A few seconds later, Feliciano scampered back in to collect the empty paper box. His free hand danced around his head and then he was gone.

And so, Ludwig waited for Feliciano's return. He was almost tempted to report Feliciano to Management, but Ludwig couldn't be _sure_ it had been Feliciano he had bumped in to. That fearful expression had Ludwig thinking though.

It took another week, but Feliciano was back with more paper and some pens. Ludwig watched as Feliciano passed his office door three times before finally working up the nerve to enter. The mute gave Ludwig a shy smile and walked over, placing the box on the desk.

A sticky note.

Ludwig blinked down at the piece of paper before back up at Feliciano.

 _Feliciano_

 _Fell-ee-cha-no_

Ludwig adjusted his tie. "It sounds… Foreign."

Feliciano shrugged, smile a little less forced as he replaced the paper.

Ludwig drummed his fingers on the desk. "I'm not from here, actually. My family was captured."

Brown eyes flicked to Ludwig's blue. Feliciano raised his eyebrows, motioning with his hand for Ludwig to continue. The supply boy collapsed in the chair opposite to Ludwig, tilting his head to the side.

Ludwig, having gained Feliciano's attention, found he had no idea what to do with it. He sat straighter in his chair, turning slightly to face his computer. "Ah, when Britain invaded Old Germany—before it reformed. My grandpa was a miner and now…" Ludwig ran his index finger along the computer keyboard.

Feliciano hummed and nodded. He stood up, gave Ludwig a little wave and a smile that made Ludwig's fingers tingle, and then the supply boy was gone.

Things proceeded. Feliciano would come in with a new sticky note for Ludwig, a smile, and would listen to Ludwig talk. Sometimes, he would come in with a blank piece of paper and sketch Ludwig working or the city outside the window.

Ludwig had a collection of these drawings at his home.

Feliciano never fully explained his strange language with his hands. He had one but Ludwig wasn't privy to it. Still, it was interesting to watch. Ludwig often caught sight of Feliciano talking to other lower ranking workers. The way his hands carved through the air… Ludwig ached to know what the man was saying. If Management didn't track internet searches, Ludwig would have learned.

Tonight, Ludwig had stayed late. He typed methodically on his computer, his back burning. If he didn't leave his office soon, the street cleaners would force him to stay in the building overnight.

A knock.

Ludwig looked up, blinking. Feliciano stood, playing nervously with his hands.

"Feliciano, what are you…"

The mute quickly walked across Ludwig's office and around his desk. Ludwig spun in his chair, confused and mildly irritated. And then Feliciano smashed his lips against Ludwig's pushing him back.

It was strange to kiss someone with half a tongue. If Ludwig had been standing, his legs would have given out from underneath him. As it was, Feliciano straddled him.

Ludwig let out a faint noise that was halfway between a groan and a sigh. Feliciano began to work on Ludwig's shirt buttons, lips moving against Ludwig's as he mouthed things to himself. Ludwig wished he could hear what the other man was saying.

Ludwig pulled at Feliciano's own shirt, running his hands up Feliciano's back. Feliciano leaned back and made a face, snatching Ludwig's hands and rubbing them together. Embarrassment flooded through Ludwig and he began to pull away.

Feliciano smiled and shook his head and caught Ludwig's hands once again, kissing his fingers. And then, they were kissing once again. Feliciano unfastened Ludwig's belt, batting away the man's protests with smiles. Soon, the protests turned to moans against Feliciano's neck.

In the haze of pleasure, Ludwig figured he should probably do something, too.

"You," he gasped, reaching for Feliciano's belt.

The mute shook his head, stroking faster to distract Ludwig.

Ludwig didn't remember finishing as much as he remembered Feliciano laughing at his embarrassment. Eventually, Feliciano draped his arms around Ludwig's neck and dragged him to the ground. He collapsed on top of Ludwig, sighing contentedly. Ludwig fell asleep to Feliciano's breathing.

Red.

Ludwig gazed up at the ceiling of his office. It was bathed in a bright red. He sat up, eyes drawn to the red screen of his computer.

ＶＩＲＵＳ ＳＵＣＣＥＳＳＦＵＬ

Feliciano was nowhere to be found.


	8. Woof

**Anonymous said :** Could you please write a gerita one-shot with werewolf!ludwig c:?

* * *

"It's racist."

Feliciano scoffed. "It's not _racist_ , Lovino! How can it possibly be racist? I'm not asking anyone to strip or sit on my face or turn into a giant doggy in front of me and run around, I'm just going to make friends and learn about—"

Lovino jerked the wheel. "You want to fuck a werewolf!"

"I do not!" Feliciano's voice was getting higher. "I'm going to learn about them. Especially after knowing we have that gene or DNA or whatever, I figured it's good if one of our kids turns out to me a—a, you know—"

Lovino made a face. "It's racist."

Feliciano crossed his arms. "Yeah, but—"

"Holy shit, if you ever get one of those 'woof' bumper stickers, you can get your own fucking car and forget me _ever_ giving you a fucking ride again anywhere."

 **…**

WEREWOLVES CAN BE VEGETARIAN TOO – BREAK THE STEREOTYPE !

 **…**

Feliciano sipped on his drink, really wishing that he was drinking something red and alcoholic and not watery apple juice—he wanted a glass of wine.

And the place they were holding the meeting was really, really creepy. It was in a basement of a church. Not that Feliciano had anything against churches, of course—it's just that his church was warm and friendly and didn't have a basement.

"Wow, this place is really creepy," Feliciano said, more so it was out there than anything.

The hot werewolf man was avoiding Feliciano's gaze and, well, ignoring Feliciano in general.

"Don't you think so? It's so funny, actually, that I meet you here! It's ironic, I think, because you know, how I found you and everything. And now here we are! At the same werewolf support meeting." Feliciano sipped his watery apple juice. "I'm Feliciano Vargas, but a lot of people call me Feli."

"It's quite the coincidence," hot werewolf man said, awkwardly.

God, he was so attractive.

"It's not, like, weird or anything between us, is it? Because, I mean, I think every werewolf has at least _one_ awkward moment of passing out in a stranger's yard as a wolf and waking up in the nude and needing to borrow the stranger's really small clothing and _then_ seeing that same person at a werewolf support meeting. What's your name?"

Hot werewolf man glanced down at him. He was tall. And buff. And he could turn into something that could easily rip out Feliciano's throat.

(Feliciano was very happy he wore the tight boxer briefs.)

"Ludwig."

Feliciano smiled, and Ludwig looked away again.

"I think werewolves are hot," Feliciano said.

At the same time, someone announced: "We're beginning the meeting."

 **…**

WEREWOLVES ARE _NOT_ MORE AGGRESSIVE – BREAK THE STEREOTYPE !

 **…**

"Well," Feliciano said, standing, "I'm not really a werewolf. I have that—that thing, in your body? I can't remember what it's called, because everyone is looking at me, but basically it means that I _can_ turn into a werewolf, maybe, and my kids also maybe might turn into werewolves, too, but there's only a twenty-five-percent chance."

Ludwig was staring at Feliciano's knees. He hadn't looked at Feliciano the entire time they had been having circle time.

Or, well, he didn't look when he thought Feliciano was paying attention. But Feliciano was _sure_ Ludwig had looked at his ass.

"So, I'm here to learn more about werewolves, and maybe make some friends."

This time, Ludwig _definitely_ met his eye.

When Feliciano smiled at him, his eyes flicked away, and he cleared his throat.

 **…**

MEDICATIONS CAN CONTROL FULL MOON TRANSFORMATIONS – BREAK THE STEREOTYPE !

 **…**

"Why are you here?" Ludwig asked, voice coming from his chest, deep, straight to Feliciano's knees.

"I said last week," Feliciano said simply.

"I do not think that's true." His jaw clenched. "It's not fun being a werewolf. I do not have fun worrying if I will kill someone. For some reason, you think it's attractive." And his fists were clenched.

Feliciano shrugged. "Anyone can kill anyone."

Ludwig looked at him like he had grown a second head.

"I can turn into a giant wolf and rip out your throat."

Feliciano nodded. "Yeah, but anyone can kill anyone. Like, everyone drives around in these huge, giant, metal machines that could swerve off the road and kill everyone walking on the sidewalk, but no one has PSA announcements for breaking the stereotypes about getting crushed to death by an eighteen-wheeler or a motorcycle."

Ludwig froze, and then turned on his heel. Feliciano was worried he had offended him—never good when you wanted to get laid—but all Ludwig did was get his briefcase and walk brusquely back to Feliciano.

"These," Ludwig said, opening the case, "are the number of pills I need to take to try and keep my hormones in check. "And some weeks, I can still turn."

"Is that why I found you passed out on my lawn?"

Ludwig snapped the briefcase shut.

Feliciano panicked. "I—uh—I take iron pills. Like, a lot of iron. I'm really iron deficient. Like, there's nothing wrong with needing medications or pills or whatever and still have something weird with you. Really, _really_ deficient."

Ludwig frowned. "Do you have a cast iron pan?"

"No, not really, I tend to cook in stainless steel, because it's easier to clean and it looks really good hanging up on this rack thing I have in my kitchen. Why?"

"You can get an iron boost from cooking in cast iron pans."

"Oh, wow, really?"

 **…**

WEREWOLF BLOOD AND SPIT DOES NOT SPREAD LYCANTHROPY – BREAK THE STEREOTYPE !

 **…**

Lovino shook his head. "Nope. I'm not feeding this sick fucking fetish."

Feliciano's voice was already getting higher. "It's not a _fetish_ , Lovino! I have a legitimate friend who I want to visit!"

Lovino only sank further into the couch. "No _fuck_ ing way."

Feliciano stood in front of the TV. "Lovino, come on! It's not my fault I don't have a license, and a lot of those werewolf guys are okay."

"Are you aware that 'a lot of those werewolf guys' can kill you?"

Feliciano threw his hands into the air. "So can you and your sucky driving!"

"Fuck you!"

 **…**

WEREWOLVES CAN BE BALD – BREAK THE STEREOTYPE !

 **…**

"Feliciano?"

Feliciano turned. It was cold, especially after the sun set.

"Ludwig! That was a boring meeting, don't you think?"

Ludwig stood uncertainly a few feet in front of the doorway. "Where are you going?"

Feliciano looked at his bike and back to Ludwig. "Home?"

Ludwig frowned. "It's dark. And cold. There's supposed to be frost forming tonight. And you don't have any reflective clothing on."

Feliciano nodded. "My brother sucks. It's fine—I once rode to Blockbuster and back in a snowstorm, at twilight-time, and I almost got hit by a car, but I ended up returning the videos before I got a _really_ bad late-fee, so I can probably make it back." Feliciano looked at his bike again. "I don't have a license," he tacked on lamely.

"You don't have a helmet, either," Ludwig said.

"Helmet hair."

Ludwig sighed. "I can give you a ride home. I assume you live within a few miles of the church, am I correct?"

"Oh yeah, real close."

 **…**

WEREWOLVES HAVE NAILCLIPPERS – BREAK THE STEREOTYPE !

 **…**

"I'm pretty sure we're going around in circles, Feliciano."

"No, we're not, take a left right—you missed it." Feliciano watched Ludwig's profile. The streetlights illuminated the stubble on Ludwig's chin, and Feliciano found himself absently wondering what Ludwig's stubble felt like when he kissed. "How often do you have to shave?"

Ludwig didn't even glance over. "Once every two days—before." His lip quirked. "Now, it gets worse when the full moon is approaching."

"Oh, well I think the stubble looks good, and I'm sure your other parts look okay, too."

"My…" The question died on Ludwig's lips.

Feliciano laughed. "Sorry! Do you really get more aggressive when it's the full moon?"

" _Ni_ —No. I produce more testosterone than usual, so while this tends to lead to aggression, it can also lead to—"

"Horniness?"

"What?"

Feliciano grinned. "Hm?"

 **…**

BARKING AT WEREWOLVES IS DISCRIMINATORY – BREAK THE STEREOTYPE !

 **…**

"Feliciano, have you ever _seen_ a dog dick?! It has a _sheath_!"

" _Shut up, Lovino_!"


End file.
